


Guess What's On Your Mind

by tellmealovestory



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Protective Sam Wilson, everyone's an idiot but natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22438870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmealovestory/pseuds/tellmealovestory
Summary: Written for wkemeup 4k writing challenge on tumblr.Dialouge prompt - Are you drunk?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	Guess What's On Your Mind

Weaving your way through the bodies of familiar and unfamiliar people you felt like the only sober person at the party. You weren’t of course, but as your eyes drifted through the crowd catching sights of people taking shots, holding fancy glasses of colorful cocktails and cold bottles of beer. Flushed cheeks, sweaty bodies moving and dancing together as one, the bass of the music making your body thrum you wondered if you shouldn’t join in on the fun.

Tony’s parties always made you uncomfortable. Too many important people, too many names to try and remember, too much loud music, too much of everything. But being his personal assistant meant not only planning these ridiculously lavish parties, but also attending them. You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more drunk people who bumped into you, the louder the music seemed to get and the more you wanted to be back in the safety of your own apartment.

Clutching the bottle of water tighter in your hand you stood on your tip toes in an attempt to see over the crowd, your eyes scanning for any sign of a familiar face, but between all the people and the dimmed lights it was next to impossible to see anything. Sighing you made your way through the crowd once again heading towards the couches in the living area where you had last seen your friends.

“You’re still here.” It’s not a question, but a statement from Natasha, her eyebrow is arched as her gaze drifts from yours to Bucky’s who’s sitting on the couch, a goofy smile on his face.

“I was actually thinking about leaving. You know how much I hate these things,” you murmured, lifting your shoulder in a shrug as you tried to play off just how uncomfortable you were. It was useless. Nat and Bucky could read you like an open book. Well, maybe not tonight because as your eyes flicked over to him you were surprised to see him sitting on the edge of the couch, his usual tense shoulders during social situations were relaxed catching you off guard. In his hand was a small glass filled a couple of inches with a liquid you assumed was whiskey.

“Who’s leaving?” Sam asked, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer to him for a brief hug before moving to sit on the other side of Bucky.

“Y/N is,” Natasha said.

“She can’t leave she has to see this,” Sam replied.

“Hello! I’m standing right here you guys don’t have to talk about me like I’ve already left.” Rolling your eyes you shifted your weight from foot to foot torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. You hated to admit it, but Sam had your curiosity piqued.

As if just tuning into the conversation Bucky started laughing, the sound catching you so off guard your eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, lookit who it is!” He laughed and despite your shock over the situation you could feel yourself struggling not to smile.

Flicking your gaze between Natasha, Sam and Bucky your eyes stay locked on Bucky’s the longest as you try to figure out what was going on with him.

“Uh... hey,” you murmured, feeling like an idiot for the way you constantly stuttered and stammered anytime you came within a foot of him. You can hear Natasha chuckling and you tear your gaze away from Bucky to shoot her a glare. She knows about your crush on him, hell, you’re pretty sure _everyone_ knows about your crush on him except for him.

“Ya gonna sit?” Bucky asked, his words slurred as he pats the tiny gap of space between him and Nat on the couch.

It’s Sam’s turn to laugh, the sound booming and it has your gaze swinging to his face and not for the first time since you stumbled upon your friends do you wonder what the hell is going on.

“I think that’s my cue to leave. Have fun, Y/N,” Natasha smirked as she gets up from the couch.

Her touch is gentle yet firm on the small of your back as she nudges you towards the couch, your body acts on its own as you sit down next to Bucky. Your heart is racing and your breath hitches in the back of your throat when you feel his arm wrapping around your shoulder pulling you closer much like Sam had done, only he doesn’t let go.

“Where ya been all my life?” he mumbled, his nose pressed against your hair inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo. “Ya smell so good.”

“What the hell?” You mouthed over to Sam, but he’s too busy laughing, too busy getting enjoyment out of this strange exchange to help you out. And though you don’t mean to you can’t help laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Your shoulders begin to relax as you lean into Bucky’s warm embrace. 

His fingertips dance down your arm causing you to shiver, his laughter is loud, contagious even, his breath hot as it fans across your cheek. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart is pounding, he must, you’re sure of it when his eyes search yours. His gaze is curious and for the briefest of moments you forget about Sam, you forget about the party, you forget about wanting to leave. All you can focus on is how close he is to you, how warm he is, how _solid_ his body is against yours, how he smells so good, like musk and woods. Your thoughts are broken by his laughter, but you’re still under the spell of him as you watch him bring the glass up to his lips, swallowing down the liquid.

“Ya want some, doll? ‘S really good. Best I ever had,” he said, his voice light.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so _happy_ before. The way his face is lit up, the way his smile is stretched wide across his face causing his eyes to crinkle. The only time you’ve seen him look so happy was when he was with Steve, but you haven’t seen him for awhile now and you _know_ he’s not acting this way because of Sam or you which could only mean he was drunk, which you were pretty sure was impossible.

_**“Are you drunk?”** _

“No, I’m Bucky,” he replied, his head tilting back as another wave of laughter wracks his body. It’s not funny, it’s really not, but Sam is joining in on laughing and soon enough you find yourself joining in too.

“It’s great isn’t it?” Sam asked, his question directed to you. “You should see the videos and pictures I have of him. Great for blackmailing when he sobers up.”

“I thought he couldn’t get drunk because of the serum? That’s what Steve always said.”

“It’s Asgardian mead the only thing that works.”

“Are you drunk?” Bucky asked and you’re not sure who he’s asking. “No, I’m Bucky.” Repeating your earlier question and answers sets him off again which has Sam pulling out his phone.

“Bucky, how much of that... stuff have you had to drink?” Your voice is soft and concerned and though you don’t expect him to answer you’re surprised when he does.

“Why ya wanna know? Ya want some? I could share with a pretty girl like you.”

He’s drunk, you know that now, his compliment is meaningless, he’s not going to remember this conversation in the morning, assuming of course that Sam isn’t filming this right now, but that doesn’t stop your body from reacting to his words. Heat crawls up your neck and you swallow your nerves down, _praying_ that Sam isn’t filming. Glancing over at him through your lashes you squeak when you see his phone pointed at the two of you.

“Sam knock it off,” you snapped, your attention drifting back to Bucky who can’t seem to keep from touching you. “No, I don’t want any of your drink.” You leave out the part about how his glass is empty.

“Ya sure? More for me then,”‘he said.

“Oh this is too good. Wait until I tell everybody.”

“Yes, I’m sure and no, no more for you, you’ve had enough to drink, Bucky. Sam, you’re _not_ telling anybody about this.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything and for a moment you wonder if he’s starting to sober up. But when you feel his fingertips ghosting up and down your arm you realize that he’s still drunk. A fact that becomes much more clear when he opens his mouth to speak. 

“How come we’ve never been on a date, doll? Let’s go out. ‘m a great date.” 

Your mouth dropped open and _again_ you have to remind yourself that he’s drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s asking, but it’s hard when Sam is on his other side laughing so hard you think he’s going to pass out and it’s hard when you can feel Bucky pulling you onto his lap, his face nuzzling your neck causing your heart rate to increase.

Of course you’ve fantasized about Bucky asking you out, fantasized about what it would be like to date him, hell you’ve even fantasized about getting the courage up to ask _him_ out. Sitting on his lap, feeling his warm breath hitting your neck you have to keep reminding yourself that this isn’t real, that he’s drunk, that he doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying and the realization has your heart sinking into your chest. After all why would he ever want to date you? Sighing you make an attempt to get up from his lap, but his metal arm wraps around your stomach holding you tight to him. “Bucky,” you sighed.

“‘M not lettin’ you go till you say you’ll go out with me,” he murmured, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. His voice is like velvet and you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the warmth radiating from his body.

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Trying to wriggle out of his grasp he tightens his hold. Beginning to realize that he was serious and he’s not letting you go until you say yes you sigh again. “Sure, I’ll go out with you, but only if you go to bed right now. You’re drunk and you need to sleep this off before you say or do something even more ridiculous.” 

“Ya know usually I go out with a girl a couple times before I go to bed with her.” 

“That’s not... I’m not... Sam _shut up_!” You yelled.

Wriggling free from his grasp you miss the warmth of Bucky’s body, miss the way you fit perfectly on his lap, miss the feeling of his warm breath against your heated skin, miss the way it felt being so close with someone. Shaking your head of the thoughts you stand up, glaring at Sam before your gaze softens as you look down at Bucky.

The way he’s smiling at you has you wishing that he wasn’t drunk right now, that everything he said, that everything he asked of you was true, that he really did want to take you out on a date, but you know it’s not. In the morning he’ll have no memory of this and the two of you will go back to being friends and nothing more.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It was fine to indulge in a silly fantasy for a couple of minutes, it was fine sitting on his lap pretending that the two of you were more than friends, but that’s all it was. A _fantasy_ and now it’s time to put him to bed and leave so you can forget about this night. “Sam put your phone down and help me get him to his room. Bucky, it’s time for bed. _By yourself_.” 

The party is still in full swing as Sam reluctantly helps you take Bucky to his room. The further you get away from the crowd, the further you get away from the strong smell of alcohol, the further you get away from the loud music the better you feel. Until you make it to Bucky’s room and Sam drops him on his bed and turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic lacing your voice as you look helplessly at Bucky sitting on the edge of his bed to Sam standing in the doorway a large smile on his face as he watches you. 

“Back to the party.” 

“No, no, no, you are _not_ leaving me alone with him! What am I supposed to do with a drunk super soldier, Sam?”

“Go out with him,” he laughed as he closed the door leaving you alone with Bucky. 

“Fuck.”

Turning around to face Bucky you’re relieved to see he’s laying down on his bed, at least that solves the problem of you trying to get him to go to sleep. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with him in his room and it’s jarring. You’ve never had to take care of a drunk person before let alone a super solider and you’re not sure what to do. Do you get him a bottle of water and some tylenol? Can he get hungover? You didn’t even know he could get drunk! You’re so out of your element you miss him calling your name at first. It’s only when he’s practically shouting, his voice tinged with a whininess you’re not used to hearing from him that you’re broken out of your worries.

“C’mere.” Patting the empty spot next to him on the his bed you stay where you are torn between leaving and doing as he asked. “Y/N,” he whined.

You may not have experience taking care of drunk people, or drunk super soldiers, but you _have_ babysat for kids before and you’re beginning to realize that Bucky Barnes turns into a whiny toddler when he’s drunk. You can handle this. 

Rolling your eyes you kick off your shoes before crawling up his bed keeping a safe distance between your bodies. That’s not good enough because as soon as you rest your head on his pillow he’s pulling you closer to him, so your head is resting on his chest. You can hear the steady thump thump thump of his heart as he holds you close to him. “Um.. Bucky?” you asked softly. 

“Mmf.” 

“I really should let you go to sleep so if you... wanna let me go I can do that,” you murmured softly. You don’t want him to let you go, you want him to let you sleep here next to him, you want to keep your head on his chest, you want him to keep his arms wrapped protectively around you, you want this, but you know that he’s drunk and he’s not in his right mind and this isn’t right. Even if it’s what he thinks he wants right now.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” You asked, giggling into his chest. 

“Stay. Please?”

“Bucky...”

“ _Please?_ ” He whined.

“Okay, fine, if you stop acting like a baby.” 

You’re only going to stay until you hear his breathing slow down enough signaling that he’s sleeping and then you’ll leave. You’ll find Sam, you’ll delete any pictures or videos he has on his phone and you’ll go home to your own bed. You’ll wake up in the morning and come to work and this night, everything Bucky did, everything he asked of you will be forgotten and things will go back to normal. It’s the perfect plan. 

His lips brush across your forehead and you swear you stop breathing for a minute. How many times have you fantasized about _that?_

“Sleep better with ya by my side,” he mumbled.

You don’t say anything. Letting your eyes drift shut you swear that you’re just going to close them for a minute, just to rest them you tell yourself. In a couple of minutes he’ll be asleep and you can make your escape. 

* * *

Nuzzling your head in the soft material of a shirt you sigh, just a couple more minutes of sleep you think to yourself before your eyes fly open. Soft shirt? Arms wrapped tightly around you holding you close? 

“Mornin’.”

His voice is raspy and... _sexy_ and oh fuck you were supposed to leave before this happened. His arm is still wrapped around your shoulders, your head still on his chest and you don’t know if you should bury your head or get up and run away. You don’t know why you’re so embarrassed, you weren’t the one who got drunk last night, but it’s still _weird_ waking up wrapped in your crushes arms.

“I know you’re awake, ya plan on ignornin’ me all mornin’?”

“H-Hi. Um... this isn’t... you were... I...,” you stuttered, daring a peek at him through your lashes. How did he look so good this early in the morning? Running a hand through your hair you lift your head from his chest, surprised and admittedly a little disappointed when he removes his arm from around your shoulders. Sitting up you reach for a blanket, even though you’re still wearing your dress from last night being out of the warmth of his arms has you shivering and it also gives you something else to focus on.

“Gotta say it was a nice surprise wakin’ up to you in my arms,” he said, his tone light and teasing and though he shouldn’t he laughs at the way you bury your head in your hands.

“Stop,” you groaned. You’re not sure how much more you can take of his nicknames and his teasing before you burst.

“What? It _is_ a nice surprise.

Taking your hands away from your face you take another peak at him. He’s still laying down, his hair is mussed on his pillow, his cheeks tinged a light pink, his clothes from last night are rumpled and as you look down under your blanket you see that your dress is just as rumpled. You wonder if there’s any way you can sneak out of his room and out of the tower without anyone seeing you and getting the wrong idea.

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry. I just... um this is weird. I was going to leave before you got up and then I guess I fell asle-.”

“You’re rambling.”

“Sorry.”

Sitting up Bucky stretches, a yawn escaping his lips and though it’s unintentional your eyes dart to the sliver of skin that’s revealed when he lifts his arms above his head and his shirt rises. Swallowing you quickly avert your gaze, your fingers plucking at a loose thread on his blanket.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your hunched and tensed shoulders.

“Sor-,” you start before catching yourself. Taking a deep breath you keep your eyes on the blanket. You hate that you’re so nervous around him right now and you hate yourself for falling asleep instead of leaving last night like you had planned.

“How are you uh feeling? Can you get hungover? I didn’t even know you could get drunk.” You’re rambling again and you want to apologize, but hearing Bucky chuckling next to you has your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as you swing your gaze over towards him surprised to see him staring at you.

“No hangovers. Perk of being a super soldier. So we were drunk that’s how you ended up here?” He teased.

“No, _you_ were drunk. I had Sam help me get you in here and when I tried to leave you turned into a baby and wouldn’t let me,” you teased, your shoulders fully relaxing. “Speaking of Sam he’s got some pictures and videos he plans on using to blackmail you with.”

“Did I do something I should know about?”

Averting your gaze back to the blanket you weighed your options. You can tell him no, that he was just happy and laughing a lot which is true. It’s just leaving out the part about how he also asked you out and if you leave that out he’s only going to find out from Sam which would turn an awkward situation even more awkward. Had you just left last night like you wanted to all of this could have been avoided.

The silence drags on and when Bucky clears his throat and nudges your shoulder gently you know you have to be honest.

“Come on it can’t be that bad what’d I do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“You asked me out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Trying to play if off as if it’s not a big deal that the only thing he could say was _oh_ you toss the blanket off before glancing up at him one last time. His expression is unreadable and you can feel your heart sinking into your chest. You don’t know what you expected. It wasn’t as if he was going to ask you out now that he was sober. It was nothing more than wishful thinking on your part, but that doesn’t stop the aching in your chest.

“So uh I’m glad you’re feeling better and I’m sorry again about... you know _this_ ,” you murmured, gesturing between you two and the bed. “I’m gonna go so I’ll see you around?” Swinging your legs over the side of his bed you hurry to leave. You can’t stand to see the pity you’re sure will be reflected in his eyes.

Your hand is on the doorknob before he’s speaking again. Your shoulders are tense, tears pricking at the back of your eyes and all you can focus on is controlling your breathing so he doesn’t pick up on anything.

“Y/N, wait.”

“It’s okay. You were drunk and I know you didn’t mean anything you said and I really have to go.” It’s a miracle you’re able to get those words out because as soon as you fling open his door the tears are falling down your embarrassed cheeks. With last nights makeup still on your face smeared and your dress wrinkled you hurry through the halls hoping to avoid seeing anyone, but with the way your morning is going you’re not that lucky as you run straight into Sam’s broad chest. Aside from Bucky he’s the _last_ person you want to see right now. You don’t have time to wipe the tears from your eyes, to try and straighten the wrinkles from your dress or to try and paste on a happy smile. You don’t have time to do anything except swear under your breath and mutter sorry as you try to step aside him, but his grip is strong on your forearms as he peers down at you with concerned eyes.

“Who’s ass am I kicking?” Sam asked. His demeanor is calm, but you can see the anger under the surface.

“Nobody’s. I have to go.” You try to break free from his grip, but he doesn’t let you go so easily and you’re not sure if you’re relieved or annoyed.

“Something happened. Did Bucky do this to you?”

“God Sam he didn’t do anything! We fell asleep and we woke up and... god I’m _so stupid!_ ” choking on a sob and your words you feel him wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight hug. He smells like fresh laundry and clean soap as if he just got out of the shower and you wonder how long he’s been up before running in to you. You wonder who else is awake and wandering around and it sets your fight or flight instincts in motion. You need to get out of here. _Now._

“I’m sorry I have to go.” Without so much as a goodbye or a further explanation you untangle yourself from Sam’s embrace as you hurry to the elevators. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’re being dramatic and blowing this out of proportion, but it’s so hard to think rationally when your heart is crumbling into tiny pieces. No wonder they call it a crush, it crushes you when it doesn’t work out.

* * *

Bucky’s mouth is open, lips parted as he stares at his bedroom door in silence. His mind is working on overdrive as he thinks back to everything that happened trying to pin point exactly where it all went wrong with. Waking up to you in his arms had been a welcome surprise, he hadn’t been lying about that. And as he listened to you stuttering and stammering, toying with the loose threads on his blanket all he could wonder about was how he got so lucky having you in his life. Who else aside from Steve would have helped him to bed after drinking too much?

The conversation went downhill after that. When you told him he had asked you out his heart had raced in fear and frustration. He hadn’t been out on a date in a long time and when he finally got the courage to ask you he had been drunk and didn’t remember it. Before he even got a chance to ask you what your answer had been you had been brushing him off. Of course the first girl he falls for doesn’t like him back and why would you? You’re beautiful and funny and sweet and kind hearted and he’s a former assassin who spent _years_ hurting people. You’re too sweet to ever fall for someone like him. You deserve someone who shines with a lightness to match the shimmer of your personality. Not someone who would only darken it by past deeds.

“What did you do?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It’s too early in the morning for Sam’s bullshit, too early for the sound of his bedroom door slamming open as Sam stands there glowering at him from across the room. Like most things he has no idea what he’s talking about. Running a hand through his messy hair he glares back at the man.

“Y/N. She was crying and since you were the last person I saw her with I’m going to ask you again. What did you do?”

“She was crying?” _Fuck._ He had known there was something wrong when you left, why hadn’t he gone after you? Because he didn’t want to hurt you. He had assumed you were acting the way you were because he had asked you out and it made you uncomfortable. Wanting to avoid hurting you he had done just that.

“Where is she?” Running a hand through his hair he scrambles off the bed his only thoughts consumed with you crying _because of him._ He feels like scum and if he thought he didn’t deserve you before he _knows_ he doesn’t now. Making his way towards the door he growls when Sam moves to block his exit, his arms crossed over his chest to look imposing, but all it does is annoy him. “ _Move._ ”

“No.”

The gears whirl in Bucky’s arm as he clenches his metal hand in equal measures frustration and annoyance.

“Move. _Now_.”

“Not until you tell me what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Am I interrupting something boys?” Natasha asked. Sauntering into the room as if she owned it her eyes land on a pair of shoes sitting by the end of Bucky’s bed. Her movements are precise as she ignores the stunned looks on both Bucky and Sam’s faces, leaning down she picks up the pair of heels, dangling them from her pinky finger she turns around to face the boys, an eyebrow arched. “You know we can hear you in the kitchen.”

One minute passes, two minutes and still nobody says anything. Bucky and Sam have returned to glaring at each other as Natasha stands watching them. After three minutes she’s rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath in Russian about how you and Bucky need to admit your feelings already. It’s getting old.

The heels are still dangling from her pinky as she holds them out to Bucky. “She’s in the bathroom in the lobby. Go.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice and even though he’s feeling guilt and shame and confusion he takes the shoes, his glare steady on Sam’s as he pushes past him and heads down to the lobby bathroom.

* * *

The tile of the bathroom is cold beneath your bare feet as you pace back and forth avoiding your disheveled gaze reflected back in the mirror. After pushing your way out of Sam’s comforting arms you made it halfway to the lobby before realizing you left your shoes in Bucky’s room. There was no way you were going back up, no way you could face him. Texting Natasha and asking her to retrieve them had been the only solution.

Sniffling you turn to face the door as it swings open, your hope of seeing Nat with your shoes is dashed when your eyes land on Bucky. Your heart races as the realization of being stuck hits you like a ton of bricks. “I think you’re in the wrong bathroom.”

“Natasha told me to come.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“You know how hard it is to say no to her.”

“You can put my shoes by the door. Thanks,” you mumbled, turning your back to him. When you don’t hear the door close or the sound of shoes hitting the floor you sigh. This day just gets better and better for you.

“Can we talk?” His voice is soft and if it wasn’t for the faint echo in the large bathroom you don’t think you’d have heard him.

With your back still turned to him you frown. There’s nothing to talk about you think. He made that pretty clear back in his bedroom. His footsteps are soft as they cross the tiled floor.

“About?”

“Last night. This morning. Will you at least look at me?” He sighed.

Turning around slowly you keep your gaze locked on the tiled floor. Your feet are still cold and you wonder if there’s any way you can put your shoes on and leave without him stopping you, but you barely finish the thought before you realize the answer is no.

You don’t say anything, but you do glance up at him reluctantly. There’s so much you want to say to him, but as your eyes lock on his the words get stuck in the back of throat as memories of last night and this morning come flooding back to you. It’s all you can do to keep tears at bay.

“I already told you there’s nothing to talk about.”

“And I already told you you’re a bad liar.” His voice is light as he tries to ease the tension by cracking a joke, but it doesn’t do anything except make you drop your gaze. “‘M sorry, doll.”

“What?” The word spills from your lips, the shock of his apology so surprising it causes you to gape at him. Whatever you expected him to say, had wanted him to say it wasn’t that.

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together and he’s left swallowing the lump in his throat. “Ya know, sorry, for last night, for asking you out.” Rubbing the back of his neck he frowns when he hears your quiet sob, swears he can feel his heart shattering.

Swiping at your eyes all you manage to accomplish is smearing your slept in makeup. “I don’t want your apology, Bucky,” you muttered. You already knew that he didn’t like you, but knowing and hearing him say it are two different things. The bathroom suddenly feels too small, the lights too bright and much like with Sam earlier you need to leave. _Now._ Turning on your heel you start to leave, but when you feel his hand curling around your wrist stopping any further movements you want to cry.

“Did I do something else wrong last night, doll?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I am... such an idiot!” The concern in his voice any other time would make your heart melt, would make a welcome warmth spread through your veins, but hearing it now only stings. Pulling your wrist from his grasp you take a shaky step backwards.

“You know I _never_ wanted to be one of those delusional people who assume that because someone is nice to them that means they like them and I... I feel so stupid because god Bucky _I like you_ and I _know_ that you don’t like me and I _know_ that you were drunk last night and you don’t remember flirting and I just... when we woke up this morning and I told you what you said and all you could say was oh? It hurt. It hurt so much and I feel _so fucking stupid_ for ever thinking that you liked me!”

Your breathing is unsteady, your heart racing so fast you think you’re going to pass out, but you feel lighter, a weight has been lifted off your shoulders from spilling your guts to Bucky.

After everything you blurted out you expect him to be silent for longer, part of you even expects him to start laughing at your declaration, but when he does finally speak it catches you off guard.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked, his head spinning with your words, refusing to believe he heard you right.

“Do what?” You don’t mean to, but you can’t help spitting the words out. You just admitted that you liked him and _that’s_ what he asks?

“Talk yourself down. I hear you doing it with Natasha.” Bucky takes a step towards you, his movements are cautious as he gauges your reaction. “You have no idea how special you are, doll.”

“Why do _you_ always do that?”

“Do what?”

“You’re always calling me _doll_ or _darlin’_ or _sweetheart_ and you’re always saving me a seat next to you when we watch movies and I... you’re staring,” you muttered. You’re surprised to see him standing so close to you, surprised to see him staring down at you with an intensity in his eyes that has your breath catching.

Taking a deep breath Bucky gives a small shake of his head. Natasha’s words finally making sense. “You know why I do all of that? _Because I like you._ ”

You don’t mean to, but after everything that’s happened you roll your eyes. “I don’t need you making fun of me right now.” Too busy feeling embarrassed and stupid you miss the way his face falls at your harsh words and most importantly you miss the way he sighs, the way he leans down to crash his lips against yours.

Too shocked to do anything you stand there like an idiot. The kiss isn’t gentle by any means and it’s nothing like you imagined kissing him would be like. But his lips are soft and as your shock begins to dissipate you find yourself kissing him back.

When he finally manages to break the kiss you’re dazed, a tiny part of you wondering if that really happened or if your brain had conjured it up in a bid to make you feel better.

“I wasn’t makin’ fun of you. I _do_ like you,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

Shaking your head you take a step back, ignoring the pain in your chest when you see him frowning. It’s too hard to think clearly when he’s standing so close to you, when you can smell the lingering scent of his cologne, when you can practically feel the way his lips molded against your own.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything? You let me stand here like an idiot crying as I rambled because I thought you didn’t like me and then this morning...”

“Cause I didn’t think you liked me!” His voice is louder than he intended and in the large bathroom he flinches at the faint echo. Taking a deep breath he tries again, his voice softer this time as he takes a small step in your direction. When you don’t flinch, when you don’t take a step back like he half expected you to he closes the gap of space between your bodies. His large and callused hand reaches up to cup your warm cheek as his thumb brushes back and forth over your skin. “Cause you’re the first person I’ve fallen for in a long time, doll and I never thought someone like you would like me and maybe I don’t deserve to be happy.” 

“Why would you ever think that, Bucky?”

Shrugging his shoulders he sucks in a breath. “Cause of who I used to be. You’re a good person, you deserve someone who’s good.”

“But you _are_ good.”

Dropping his hand from your cheek you frown as he sighs. “Not always.”

“If this is about your past,” you started, struggling to choose your words carefully. “That’s not who you are anymore. I care about _you_ , the person you are _now_. The person who brings me coffee in the morning when you know I was working late the night before. The person who always saves me a seat during movies and who always makes sure I get home safe. The person who’s funny and kind and _caring_. I care about _him_. A lot. And as for you not deserving happiness, of course you do. Everybody deserves to be happy. _Especially_ you. You’re a good person, Bucky and I don’t care if takes the rest of my life I’m going to prove that to you.” 

“That’s how you really see me?” He whispered softly.

“That’s who you _are_.” Lifting your hand up you cup his cheek.

Bucky shakes his head not understanding how you and Steve can see him that way when all he still sees is the monster he used to be anytime he looks in the mirror. He wants to believe you, wants to believe that he’s a good person, but it’s hard, so fucking hard knowing that he was the one who had made you cry, knowing that he was the one who had hurt you even if it had been unintentional. It’s so stupid looking back to think that had he had the guts and just been honest with you he could have avoided hurting you. And even though he tries to tell himself that it all worked out in the end he can still see the tear stains on your cheek, can still see your smeared makeup.

Taking a deep breath he shakes his head not sure he’ll ever see himself as anything other than a monster, but as he replays your words in his head he realizes that you’re a good person and if you’re still standing here, still willing to want to be with him maybe you have a point. His thoughts are broken when he feels your lips brushing against his. This kiss is softer and sweeter and though it’s not ideal having your second kiss in a bathroom when you haven’t even been out on a date yet, when your clothes are rumpled and wrinkled, when your hair is messy and disheveled, but so far nothing about this has been ideal, but neither of you would have it any other way.

"Now that you’re sober and we’ve both admitted our feelings I hope you still plan on taking me out on that date, Bucky,” you whispered upon breaking the kiss.

“I wouldn’t miss the chance to take you out for the world, doll.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
